


The Oncoming Storm

by Tamilda



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Inner Dialogue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:34:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22180360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tamilda/pseuds/Tamilda
Summary: “You’ve certainly got nerve, showing yourself here.” Rainier called as he strode closer.“I was invited.” Solas replied calmly.“I told her you wouldn’t come.” Rainier informed his old ally, “I think, deep down, she always expected that you wouldn’t show.”“I’m here to help.”  Solas said coolly.An angsty Solavellan fic because I'm ruined. Takes place about 2-3 years after Trespasser.
Relationships: Female Lavellan/Solas
Comments: 7
Kudos: 55





	The Oncoming Storm

The elves on the unfinished curtain wall murmured to each other nervously as the Dread Wolf approached the main gate to Eth’an; the Orlesian Elven settlement. Solas held his head high as looked up at the massive structure. A young recruit took off sprinting down the wall to fetch the guard captain.

Solas remained silent.

Soon, there were two loud knocks coming from the other side of the gate. The mighty gate creaked open enough to let a man through. Guard Captain Thom Rainier stepped out into the open. 

“You’ve certainly got nerve, showing yourself here.” Rainier called as he strode closer.

“I was invited.” Solas replied calmly.

“I told her you wouldn’t come.” Rainier informed his old ally, “I think, deep down, she always expected that you wouldn’t show.”

Solas felt his mouth go dry at the mention of his former lover. The woman he’d left. Repeatedly. He’d never given her, nor anyone else, a reason to think he would come when he was needed.

“I’m here to help.” Solas said coolly. Rainier continued to glare, but jerked his head to the side to indicate Solas should follow. The guard captain turned on his heel and marched back to the wall without looking behind him to check that the elf was following. Solas folded his hands behind his back and made his way to the gate as well. Once inside, there was a great deal of shouting as the gate was closed. 

“I’d say welcome, but I think you’ll find little of that here.” Rainier grunted.

“I don’t need anyone to welcome me,” Solas stated coldly, eyes scanning the elven warriors who cowered on the wall, “I only came to help.” Inside the elven settlement, the citizens whispered to each other as they kept their distance. A dalish woman carrying a bread basket pulled her young son behind her, shielding him from view of the dreaded Fen’Harel. 

“ _ Help _ .” Rainier scoffed, “I suppose it doesn’t matter, does it? If you get your way, we’ll all be dead soon anyway. Which makes me wonder,” he narrowed his eyes, “Why did you bother to show up? Just to save a stranger?”

Solas couldn’t bring himself to answer. In truth, he didn’t know himself why he came. Mirabel had been searching for him for years, but he’d managed to elude her for the most part. Then, word reached him a fortnight ago that she had sent a desperate plea for his help. Someone close to her was deathly ill, the message said, and the Dread Wolf was their only hope of survival. The message neglected to say who was sick, or what was wrong, And yet, he still showed. He told himself it was because he wasn’t a monster; he didn’t want to cause unnecessary grief and suffering. But maybe it was because he hadn’t seen Mirabel in over a year, and sometimes it felt like he couldn’t go another moment without the sight of her. 

“Fetch Commander Rutherford.” Rainier growled to a nearby soldier.

“That won’t be necessary.” A clear voice rang through the yard. Solas stiffened at the familiar feminine tone. He turned slowly, lifting his chin. There she was, at the top of the steps leading to the wall. The rising sun cast dark shadows across her face, making it difficult to discern her expression. Even so, when he saw her he felt he was taking his first full breath in months. He felt relief underscored with inescapable sadness.

Mirabel placed her hands on her hips, observing the scene before her. Cullen was at her side as, Solas noted, he always seemed to be these days. She descended the steps slowly, her Dalish leather boots making no sound as she moved, her crimson ponytail bobbing behind her. She was clad in fine, Dalish-made armor; royal blue silk draped over a blue vitrol chainmail, her daggers perched on her hip in a dark leather belt. As she walked, she adjusted the dark leather bracers on her forearms, all the while her vibrant violet eyes never leaving Fen’Harel’s face. 

As she reached the bottom of the stairs and stepped into the shade, he was able to make out her face more clearly. She looked tired. There were dark circles under her eyes and her expression was guarded. The way she continued to adjust her bracer and belt straps suggested that she had recently lost weight; as she was a slight woman to begin with, this observation was concerning. This person who was sick must really mean a lot to her; she had obviously foregone food and rest recently. Solas had never seen her like this before, not even when she lost her clan. Just who  _ was _ this person that caused her so much concern?

When he’d received the news, Solas had suspected it might be Cullen that had fallen ill, but the Commander’s strong presence at Mirabel’s side disproved this theory. It never escaped his notice that Mirabel and Cullen were...close. It was something Solas deeply resented during his time in the inquisition. He still remembered the tight-chested sensation he’d felt when he spotted the pair sparring back at Haven; Mirabel laughing as she feinted a lunge, Cullen’s good-natured smile as he held up his hands in surrender, her daggers crossed at his throat. At the time he’d had no idea he was feeling jealousy, it’d been so long since he’d experienced something so...mortal. There had been rumors in the past few years that the Commander and the former Inquisitor had become more than friends. It was easy to understand. After all, Cullen was the one who was always there for her. He was the one who caught her the day she received the letter telling her that her clan was killed, and her legs gave out. Cullen was the one who laid her into bed, then informed Solas that she needed him. Solas found his thoughtfulness utterly infuriating.

When he saw them both in Tevinter over a year ago; Mirabel and Cullen’s relationship hadn’t seemed to change much. He was protective of her, seeing to her every need while she confided in him. She trusted Cullen and the man always had her best interests at heart. After overhearing a loud conversation between Dorian and Cassandra, which he now suspected was staged for his benefit, Solas had become convinced that not only were Cullen and Mirabel involved, but that it was for the best.

He went to her room that night to give his blessing. But he became distracted, and they argued harshly. When she’d tried to appeal to him, he begged her to leave. She should have given up on him years ago. Cullen was always kind and gentle; words that Solas had never associated with himself, words that he thought Mirabel deserved. He’d meant to tell her that being with Cullen would be better for her, but his anger and jealousy made his words cruel. She’d glared and told him fine, she’d go to Cullen’s room right then. She’d turned on her heel, unbuttoning her shirt as she went, and Solas caught her elbow. It was selfish of him to stop her, he knew that as soon as he’d touched her. But once he did, he couldn’t let her go that night.

They never really talked about that night. He’d finished up his business in the Imperium, then disappeared again.

Now, seeing Cullen, ever-faithful, at her elbow, he was sure Mirabel had finally moved on. And though he knew it was for the best the thought filled him with white-hot rage.

“Solas.” Mirabel’s voice was soft, but her gaze was hardened. 

Solas opened his mouth, but couldn’t bring himself to say anything. He wanted to say that he was sorry, but it wouldn’t change anything, they both knew that. He wanted to say her name, but he couldn’t bear to hear himself say it aloud.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” she informed him, the corners of her lips twisted into a small, half-hearted smile, “I’m relieved to see I was mistaken.”

“It sounded like a matter of some urgency.” Solas replied lamely.

“It was a matter of some urgency 10 days ago.” Cullen cut in, voice harsh, “Now it might be…”

“Cullen, please.” Mirabel pleaded in a whisper. There was an edge to her voice that Solas hadn’t heard before; it was weary and desperate. This was nothing like the strong-willed, idealistic woman he knew. He grew queasy with the realization that something was very, very wrong here.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to help,” Solas spoke finally, “but I’ll do everything in my power to do so.”

“I know.” Mirabel’s smile did not meet her eyes, “Thank you, Solas.”

“I will escort you, along with some guards, to the patient.” Cullen stated, “The guards will stay with you for the duration of your stay.”

“Nonsense,” Mirabel cut in, “We are a place of peace; we don’t keep prisoners. Solas came of his own free will, he can leave at his own will. I’ll escort him to the patient myself.”

“High Hahren,” Cullen argued quietly, “I don’t think…”

“Remember your orders,” she commanded loudly to the surrounding soldiers. She finally tore her gaze away from Solas to make stern eye contact with Cullen, “That includes you, Commander.”

“At your order.”

Mirabel then turned her attention to Rainier, who seemed equally unhappy with his orders. 

“It will be done.” Rainier assured her. He turned to Solas and spoke under his breath, “we’re not far, don’t try anything funny.” 

“This way.” Mirabel instructed as she walked away. She strode toward the center of the settlement with Solas trailing a half-pace behind her.

“Mirabel.” Solas said. The sound of her name on his lips made her twitch.

“This…” she hesitated, then sighed, “I wouldn’t have bothered you with this. But I’ve asked everyone. I’ve tried everything. Your powers, the ones that kept me alive when the anchor was implanted, they’re my last hope.”

“Vh-” Solas started, cutting himself off quickly. It was a reflex that he’d started to call out to her, but a sharp pain in his chest stopped him. Mirabel sensed it too, she stopped in her tracks and whirled around to look at him. “High Hahren,” he corrected himself quickly, “I am curious as to why you didn’t let Cullen shackle me.”

“Don’t misunderstand; convincing you to stop your suicide crusade is still the second most important thing to me.” 

Second?

“But I hold no delusions about being able to keep you here by force,” Mirabel continued, “You stay the same way you came; by choice.”

“Did you really think I wouldn’t come?” Solas asked softly.

“Do you truly want me to answer that?” Mirabel replied with another sad smile. He took a step closer; she held her ground. “No,” Mirabel sighed, “You’re always there when we need you most. It’s the sticking around part that you have trouble with.”

“In another world-”

“As you’ve said many times. But this is the world we’ve got, Solas.” She snapped, growing agitated, "It’s a world that’s tough and violent and broken; but, dammit, it’s the only world we have, and I’ll do whatever I can to improve it.”

“You’re doing a good job. This settlement, your military service, they are worthy accomplishments.” Solas looked around to soak in the Elven haven, impressed with how quickly she’d been able to build a functioning community from scratch.

“But not worthy enough of redemption in your eyes.” She wasn’t asking.

“It’s not about redemption…”

“So it’s about what, then? Just revenge? Revenge against people who died thousands of years ago?” 

“No. I was mistaken when I put up the veil; I seek only to restore the world to what it should be, for the People.”

“You’re mistaken again.  _ Ma banal las halamshir var vhen _ .” Mirabel hissed.

“I cannot ask you to understand.” The Dread Wolf lamented, dropping his gaze to hide how her words stung him. Mirabel blew out a frustrated sigh.

“There is nothing else I can say to you. I’ve given you every reason to save this world, and if that doesn’t change your mind, then you’re simply not the person I thought you were.” Her tone was lifeless and defeated. Solas’ stomach turned once more; this surrender was unlike her. The last time he saw her, she’d pleaded and screamed and refused to give up. She was relentless in everything she did. And yet, here she was today, admitting that he was a lost cause. Although he’d spent years trying to convince her of this, hearing her say it dumbfounded him. His chest constricted and his throat clenched painfully.

This...this was for the best, he reminded himself.

Mirabel’s eyes suddenly snapped to the large manor in the center of the settlement. She shifted uneasily, drawing his attention. 

“Now isn’t the time…” She muttered, “We have to hurry.”

“Mirabel-” He instinctively reached for her, but she turned away. She set off again briskly, leaving Solas behind with his hand outstretched. Slowly, he lowered his arm and watched her go. That’s right; he wasn’t here to argue, and he certainly wasn’t here to lay a hand on her; he was here to help.

Solas followed her into the newly-constructed manor. The layout was simple with large, open spaces. There was very little in the way of decorations, but it didn’t escape his notice that there was a small Dread Wolf statue perched on a table looking out of the front window. Mirabel did not address it as she marched down the hall and up a set of timber stairs.

“Whose residence is this?” Solas asked, already suspecting the answer. 

“It’s mine. Mine and-.” Mirabel cut herself off again. She stopped outside the first door on the upper hallway. She turned to face him, eyes searching as she studied him. “Listen, Solas, I’m sure you might have questions, once we go inside. But I won’t be able to answer all of them, and I can’t tell you why. There are some...sensitive subjects that I would rather not discuss. Not with you.”

Solas winced at her bluntness, but nodded in agreement.

Mirabel took a deep breath to steel herself before turning to the door and squeezing the handle. She pushed the door open and two Dalish healers jumped to attention. They stood in the center of a sparsely-furnished room.

“High Hahren,” One of them, an older woman, greeted quickly.

“Leave us.” Mirabel commanded. The older woman’s eyes slid to Solas. Upon recognizing him her eyes grew fervent with fear as she looked back to Mirabel. “I have things well in hand here. Please, go.” 

The healers shuffled out. Solas watched them go. When he returned his attention to the room he saw that Mirabel had soundlessly moved to the center of the room, where there was now a mahogany bassinet where the healers previously stood.

“Come.” She urged him quietly. His feet felt heavy as he slowly made his way across the room. He came to the opposite side of the bassinet from where Mirabel stood. Her hands were perched on the wall of the cradle and she stared down at its occupant tenderly. Solas followed her gaze to the infant. The little girl seemed impossibly small with alabaster skin; thin, ginger hair; and tiny, pointed ears. Solas gripped the edge of the cradle as well to steady himself.

Who…?

“Symptoms?” He croaked through his confusion.

“Labored breathing, slow heartbeat, high fever, she hasn’t opened her eyes or cried in two weeks.” Mirabel’s voice was strained, “None of the herbs that usually help with a fever have had any effect. There seem to be no blockages to her lungs. None of the healers know what’s wrong.”

Solas reached out with a shaky hand, Mirabel stiffened, he placed the backs of two fingers to the baby’s forehead. She was indeed burning up.

“Solas,” Mirabel implored. Solas looked up, meeting her eyes. She looked at him with determination, he recognized a small spark of the obstinate young woman he used to know. When she spoke, her voice was grave, “This little girl means the world to me. Please,  _ please _ , save my daughter.”

For a moment, Solas was sure that his heart had stopped beating. It was all he could do to stop from being violently sick right then and there.

“Your daughter.” He repeated softly. Mirabel nodded solemnly. They stood there for several long moments, holding each other’s gaze. He had questions, he knew she could see it, but her expression told him not to ask. He looked back to Mirabel’s young daughter. Now that he looked at her, he could see she had Mirabel’s pert nose. The thought almost drew a smile out of him. Almost. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d felt the smallest urge to smile. 

“She looks like you.” Solas whispered, looking up, “She’s beautiful.”

This time, there was a slight warmth behind Mirabel’s fragile smile.

“Before she fell ill, she loved to look at new things.” Mirabel’s voice shook, “She’s been curious ever since she first opened her eyes. She’s fascinated by Ranier’s beard. And she was always babbling.” She let out a breathy laugh.

Solas was quiet for several moments, gazing down at the infant, thinking of how to phrase his next inquiry.

“I’m sure that this is one of those questions I can’t ask,” He began cautiously, “but it would help, medically, if I knew something about...her father.” Looking down at the crib, the girl was so small, she could only be a couple of months old; too young to be…

“Ah,” Mirabel exhaled, shaking her head, “I fear what you would do if you found out.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Solas demanded. He’d never wanted her to fear him. The way she said it made him anxious. He knew the father, then? Someone Mirabel wanted to protect from him? His mind immediately flashed to Cullen, always at her side.

“Now isn’t the time.” Mirabel repeated, “If you help her; I’ll tell you everything. Just, please, save her.” 

He stared at her for a beat; her sentiment so similar to his own back at Skyhold all those years ago. 

_ Will you talk to me when we are finished with Corypheus? _

_ If we are both still alive afterward; then, I promise you, everything will be made clear. _

She’d trusted in that answer, but he left without an explanation. Well, everything was cleared up eventually. Look where that had gotten them.

Regardless...

“I’ll do everything in my power.” Solas promised. Mirabel hesitated.

“I have to go. I’ll send Rainier to check on her in an hour.” She took her hands off the bassinet before adding softly, “You’ll be here?” 

He met her violet eyes seriously.

“I’ll be here.” He vowed softly. She held his gaze for a moment longer, eyes guarded.

At last, she nodded and took a step back. She moved to leave the room.

“Mirabel,” he called after her, she paused with her hand on the doorknob, “I’ll be here.”

She glanced over her shoulder at him, frowning.

“I can’t make you stay, but if you’re really no monster, you won’t leave her alone. There’s an attendant outside of this door; let her know if you need anything.” With that, she left him. 

Once alone, Solas looked around and saw two chairs propped against the far wall. One was a simple, wooden straight-back. The other was a high-backed, cushioned rocking chair with a pillow and blanket crumpled in the seat. He pulled the wooden chair off of the wall and carried it to the cradle. He planted the chair back on the floor and took a seat. He propped his arms on the wall of the bassinet and gazed down at Mirabel’s daughter. 

Mirabel’s daughter.

He shook his head to clear it. He needed to focus. He reached out and let his hand hover over the little girl’s head. He took a breath, concentrating his magic. A pale purple mist wafted from his palm, flowing gently into the baby. Solas closed his eyes, searching through his magic. There it was; something dark and aggressive had settled into the depths of her chest. Solas frowned. What was this? He’d never seen its like before.

A little over an hour later, Solas was exhausted and agitated. He’d just gotten back in his chair after snapping at the attendant to find some Amrita Vein when the door swung open and Rainier marched in.

“Ah, you’re still here. It’s been about an hour; that’s some kind of record for you, isn’t it?” The guard captain remarked snidely.

“It’s nice to see that the years haven’t dulled your pointed sense of humor.” Solas observed dryly. Rainier looked into the bassinet to check on the little girl. Seeing no cause for immediate alarm, he crossed his arms and leaned against the far wall.

“I’ve been thinking about what I would say to you ever since Mirabel first told me she was sending the message.” Rainier explained, “I meant to say something profound, but I’m no fucking poet.”

“You told her not to bother, I suppose?”

“Of course I did, but you know how she gets once she’s set her mind to something.”

The corners of Solas’ mouth twitched as a smile threatened him. He knew very well, indeed.

“She listened to me when I said we needed to build a wall around the perimeter of the settlement.” Rainier continued, “She listened to Cullen when he thought mages and templars should be keeping each other in check as partners. She listened to Josephine when she suggesting using her ties in the Orlesian court to broker a better location for the settlement.”

“What’s your point?”

“My point is that I tell Mirabel lots of things. We all do. She doesn’t always agree with us, but she’s always careful to hear her friends’ advice. She always listens; except when it comes to you.”

“Hm. How ironic.” Solas muttered.

None of this was supposed to happen. He volunteered to help the inquisition to stop the breach from swallowing the world. It was a mistake to surrender his orb to Corypheus, but joining the inquisition was supposed to help rectify it. As bad as that was, his next mistake would be catastrophic. In the middle of the night he had been roughly led to one of the cabins near Haven’s entrance. A dalish woman was laying there, comatose; the only survivor from the Temple of Sacred Ashes. The mark on her hand held the immense power of the fade, and he was not strong enough to control it. She was going to die; there was no way around it, and the rest of Haven’s residents would likely be consumed by the mark as well.

Yet, she didn’t die. Even though he’d done everything in his power to make this possible, he was shocked when she awakened. She held the key to their salvation. He needed her help in order to fix his mistakes, but it was vitally important that he keep his distance. Unfortunately, she made him just as irrational as he made her. In what he could only describe as a continuous stream of weak-willed judgements, he’d landed himself in the situation he faced today; everyone, even the woman he loved, hating him as he cared for the child she’d had with some other man.

Which reminded him.

“About the girl…” Solas began. Rainier narrowed his eyes.

“I’m under strict orders not to discuss her with you.”

“How can you all expect me to help her if you won’t tell me anything about her?” Solas demanded.

“Ah, so it’s a medical question?” 

“It would be medically relevant to know who-”

“Listen,” Rainier huffed, pushing off the wall and approaching the bassinet again. He looked down at the infant, frowning. When he looked up, Solas was startled to see intense grief openly displayed on the warrior’s weathered face. “This little girl lives here like a princess. I would die for her, and I know everyone within these walls feels the same. If I thought for a moment that giving you what you want would save her...I wouldn’t even hesitate; you’d have it. Since you and I both know it wouldn’t help, why don’t you tell me why you deserve to know anything about Mirabel’s daughter?”

Solas blinked a couple of times in surprise. Rainier was right, of course. Mirabel and the girl, they weren’t... _ his _ . Mirabel owed him no answers, no explanations, and he had no right to ask. He couldn’t seem to help himself when it came to Mirabel or her daughter; he was drawn to them. Being around them, though painful, felt inexplicably  _ right _ . 

“Some of these symptoms,” Solas spoke slowly, analyzing Ranier’s expression carefully, “could be explained if she has human blood.”

“Yes, our healers here are aware of that. They’ve ruled it out as the cause of her sickness, though.” Rainier replied cryptically. Solas exhaled sharply in frustration. 

“Just what is everyone afraid I’ll do if they tell me who this girl’s father is?” He snapped.

“I know exactly what would happen. You’d do what you always do; you’d leave. Alas, since we still need you here, I think I’ll keep that information under my hat.” Rainier growled. Solas seethed silently for several moments. The father’s unknown identity weighed heavily on his heart. He knew logically that he had no right to be angry about it, but whenever he thought about Mirabel being involved with someone his head would immediately start to ache with repressed fury. 

Even so, this ailing infant was still  _ Mirabel’s daughter _ , how could they think he would leave without doing everything he could to help the little girl?

“Have you made any progress?” Rainier asked, his tone softening. Solas shook his head wearily.

“I’ve never seen anything like this before. It’s almost like…” Solas trailed off dejectedly. 

“How long do you think she can hold on for?” Rainier asked. The elf felt his throat constrict. 

“If we can’t get her fever down, she won’t last the week.”

“Good thing you took your sweet time getting here, then.” Rainier growled sarcastically.

“I came as soon as I could.” Solas retorted.

“Ah that’s right, the all-powerful; what is it they call you…? Fen’Harel? The almighty Fen’Harel has far more important matters to deal with before coming  _ our _ aid.”

“I didn’t know.”

“You didn’t know? How is that even possible? What could possibly be more important than you-!”

“That’s enough.” A deep voice commanded from the doorway. The two men turned to see Cullen standing in the doorway. Solas immediately tensed. “I was sent to make sure you two are playing nice.” Cullen explained, striding into the room which immediately began to feel cramped. 

Habitually, Cullen smiled tenderly into the cradle and gently brushed one finger across the little girl’s cheek in greeting. Solas bristled. 

“You’re dismissed.” Cullen barked at Rainier. The Guard Captain saluted briskly before stomping out of the room. 

“Are you here to keep an eye on me?” Solas asked spitefully.

“It’s Rainier I was meant to keep an eye on.” The Commander assured him; his words were kind but his tone was anything but as he rested his hand on the little girl’s foot, “You and Rainier both have trouble reining in your tempers. I was sent to intervene if necessary. Also, you should know that I sent a squad to the Hissing Wastes in search of that Amrita Vein, in case our people can’t find any with the nearby merchants. We’ll pray the merchants have some in stock, since it might be too late for anyone to get to the Wastes and back.” He looked down at the infant with deep familiarity and concern.

“You’re very close with her?” Solas asked before he could stop himself. The question hung thick in the air for a minute as Cullen refused to raise his eyes from the girl in the crib. Solas frowned before clarifying, “The girl, I mean.”

“I’ve known her from the day she was born.” Cullen replied tightly, still looking down.

“And?” Solas prodded. Cullen let out a short, humorless laugh.

“What is it that you want to hear, exactly?”

“The truth.” 

“The truth…” Cullen repeated thoughtfully, “The way the elves talk about you around here paints you as a madman. When I worked with you, I thought you might be wise. I just never realized how petty you really are.”

Solas became very still. The commander must have noticed him glaring at the other man’s hand, resting so comfortably against Mirabel’s daughter. 

“How human of you.” Cullen concluded.

“Pettiness transcends race and time.” Solas grumbled, Cullen smirked in satisfaction at his admission. 

The commander was silent for several moments, then,

“It wasn’t me.” 

Solas raised his head to look at the Commander; the admission was so soft he was sure he must’ve misheard him. Cullen finally lifted his gaze from the bassinet to meet Solas’ stare. 

“Why...I thought no one was allowed to tell me about her?” Solas asked.

“I’m not, and the High Hahren will likely be furious with me. But I once considered you a friend; I take no enjoyment in seeing you suffer like this.” 

Solas tapped his fingers against his thigh in irritation. Why did Cullen Rutherford have to be so... _ good _ ? All Solas wanted to do was hate him; but the man made it hard. Then, the meaning of his words sunk in.

“This isn’t your daughter?” Solas asked quickly, not quite believing what he was hearing. He looked down at the little girl with newfound curiosity. 

“You sound surprised.”

“I’m staggered.” Solas confessed. He remembered that night in Tevinter, when Solas insisted that Mirabel walk away. “ _ Fine _ ,” she’d snapped with tears in her eyes, “ _ I’ll go spend the night in Cullen’s quarters. _ ” But he’d stopped her. He assumed that, with time, she would have ended up in his bed anyway. 

“You two aren’t involved?” Solas questioned further, causing Cullen to blanch. 

“How is that any of your concern?”

Solas frowned and settled deeper in his chair. It certainly shouldn’t be any of his concern; not anymore. Even so, the growing number of questions nagged at him, consuming his concentration. He had long since resigned himself to a fate where Mirabel and Cullen were living happily ever after together. But if they weren’t…

If they weren’t, what did it matter to him? It didn’t change anything; it couldn’t. 

“Lady Lavellan is quite possibly my closest friend,” Cullen stated solemnly, “even if there were...other feelings involved, even if we’d tried…” Solas felt his heart sink, but Cullen pressed on, “I think that I- and Rainier and the rest of the Inquisition, for that matter- just remind her of the asshole that broke her heart.” Solas winced involuntarily as though he’d been dealt a physical blow. 

“I...I’ll always hate myself for that.” The Dread Wolf choked.

“In that you’re in good company.” Commander Cullen sighed. 

Solas returned to work, funneling his magic into the little girl while trying to pull the dark sickness out of her. Cullen stayed for a while, comforting the infant as she squirmed. Once the baby drifted back to sleep, he excused himself to attend to his other duties. 

The strain of the work caused Solas’ head to throb. Eventually, he dozed off in his chair, one hand dangling in the crib. 

When he awoke, the room was dark, lit only by a single candle on the corner table. The window was open and the cool night breeze drifted into the room, bringing with it the lazy scents of summer; honeysuckle, fresh herbs, and clean linen. He immediately checked on the girl in the bassinet and was relieved to find her sleeping peacefully. As Solas straightened, a light blanket fell off his shoulders. He frowned in confusion. He slowly raised his hand to grip the edge of the blanket. Where had this come from? He glanced around the room, his eyes immediately landed on the rocking chair on the far side of the room. Mirabel was curled up in the chair, clutching the pillow, fast asleep.

“Ah.” He said aloud when he realized the blanket now around his shoulders and been lumped on the chair when he first entered the room. He sighed and stood, taking a few moments to stretch. He had no idea how many hours he’d spent sleeping in that chair, his muscles were stiff and his back ached. Solas walked softly across the room and paused in front of Mirabel. She’d fallen asleep while still fully dressed, though she’d swapped her armor for a flowing linen shirt and breeches. Her wavy hair had been taken out of its horsetail and fell across her cheek. Trying carefully not to wake her, he draped the blanket over her, gingerly tucking her in. With this task finished, he brushed a lock of hair out of her face before settling into a relaxed crouch. 

She’d been so tense ever since he walked through the gate. Now, seeing her dream, he was startled to recall how young she really was. When he first met her, she was twenty-one and already carried the weight of the world on her shoulders. Her trials made her wise beyond her years and she displayed a great strength of character in her role as inquisitor. It was hard to sometimes, when he thought she was being stubborn or childish, to remember her youth. After all, he himself had never been accused of being flexible or easy-going. As for Mirabel, she never had a chance to enjoy her juvenescence; the events at the Temple of Sacred Ashes robbed her of that. She’d been working tirelessly to make the world a better place ever since that day; making decisions that no one should have to make. And now, here she was; a mother.

How old was she now? Twenty-five? Twenty-six? He tried to recall how long it had been as his eyes traced the soft curve of her cheek. Even though being here made him hate himself, even though it hurt him immeasurably to see her again after all this time; he couldn’t help but be relieved by the sight of her.

And yet...he glanced back at the bassinet. How could she? The child must have been conceived only a couple of months after he saw her in Tevinter. That night they spent together meant a lot to him. Was it not the same for her? But no, he reminded himself, he had no right to feel betrayed. It was selfish of him to stay with her that night. He was the one who had to walk away. He shook his head, hopelessness and frustration overcoming him. No matter how much he tried to rationalize it, he couldn’t control his emotions.

He’d never feel good about leaving, but that didn’t change what he had to do.

With a sad sigh, he gave Mirabel’s sleeping form one last look.

“I’m sorry.” Solas whispered. He lifted himself to his feet and turned his back, returning to the little girl in the cradle. Reaching out with his magic, he saw the same dark presence in her chest. He frowned, eyebrows furrowing. It was almost like…no; he couldn’t dare let himself think  _ that _ . After all, who could possibly hold that kind of vendetta against an infant? 

Solas had been working over the child for a while when Mirabel suddenly stirred.

“Solas?” She asked softly without opening her eyes.

“I’m here.” He assured her without hesitation. She relaxed back into her chair and immediately went back to sleep; or maybe she’d never really been awake in the first place. Solas felt his chest constrict. How many nights? How many nights had she called out to him and gotten no answer? 

How many nights had he done the same?

It was his own fault; he brought this on himself by being selfish. He’d never meant to encourage her, but in the end he couldn’t help himself. That tortured him...but Mirabel didn’t deserve this. He never should have…

The baby wriggled and started to fuss, drawing Solas’ attention as well as a groan from Mirabel. The woman stretched as she lifted herself wearily from her chair. She approached and looked into the cradle, frowning in concern. 

“She must be hungry.” She observed, reaching down. Solas felt the blood drain from his face as his eyes dropped to her breasts. He should excuse himself...but Mirabel had already noticed.

“Hm, you’d like that wouldn’t you?” She teased with a humorless smile.

“I can give you some privacy…”

“It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

“Yes but that’s...I was...you shouldn’t…” Solas trailed off, completely flustered.

“Solas,” Mirabel chuckled, catching him off-guard. She walked across the room and carefully knocked a rhythm on the door. A moment later, the door opened just enough for a hand to slip through and offer a soft leather flask. Mirabel took the flask and returned to the cradle, lifting her daughter into her arms before settling back into her chair. 

“It’s an herbal remedy mixed with cow’s milk.” There was an undercurrent of sorrow as she explained, “She...can’t seem to keep my-...or anything else down.” She held the little girl close as she coaxed her into drinking from the flask.

“Mirabel?” Solas asked tenderly and moved closer, seeing tears pool in the corners of her eyes. 

“I feel so helpless.” She whispered fearfully, pressing her lips to the top of the girl’s head, nestling in the baby’s thin red hair, “She’s fading farther every day, and I can’t help her. I can’t even feed my own child.” 

Solas closed the distance between them and crouched before her once more, gingerly placing a comforting hand on her knee. He didn’t know what to say, so he remained silent as he watched her carefully.

“This,” She took a breath to steady herself before meeting his gaze seriously, “Solas, this is the only child I’m ever going to have.”

“Don’t say things like that.” He urged her gently,

“You don’t understand.” She shook her head, “Amongst other reasons, there were some complications during the birth. The scarring…”

Solas was once again overcome with the desire to vomit.

“The healers think it very unlikely that I would be able to conceive again.”

“Ir abelas, Ma Vhenan.” He didn’t correct himself this time. He squeezed her knee in a show of solidarity. 

“You couldn’t have known. After all; you weren’t here.” She hadn’t said the words to be cruel, but they cut him to the core nonetheless. He wasn’t here. He wasn’t there when the woman he loved was bleeding out as her baby screamed and cried. He wasn’t there the first time she held the child in her arms. He wasn’t even there when the woman discovered she was with child. How had she reacted? With excitement? Fear? Shame? He would never know.

He wasn’t there for her when she was told she couldn’t have more children.

He wasn’t there when her daughter became ill.

“You’re here now.” Mirabel said softly, catching his eye, “For now, anyway. But for however long you stay, know that I am grateful.” 

“You can’t say that you’re thankful.” Solas withdrew his hand, “This is all my fault.”

“You have no idea.” Mirabel mumbled, almost too quietly for him to hear. She planted a light kiss on her daughter’s head before standing up and returning the infant to her crib. Solas followed slowly, standing next to her as she gazed lovingly into the cradle. 

“You should know that I regret what transpired between us. I let myself get carried away.” Solas said.

“I don’t.” Mirabel argued calmly, “And I wish you wouldn’t either.”

Solas was so shocked by this statement that he took a step back. Mirabel turned to look at him with narrowed eyes. He recognized her determined expression.

“Would it really be so terrible to allow yourself a moment of happiness?” She inquired.

“Historically, yes.”

“You’re an idiot!” Mirabel announced in exasperation, “A remarkable idiot with a terrible temper and unshakable ideals. I’ve seen you wipe out entire armies with a look; and I’ve seen you risk it all to save a single lost soul. I’ve seen the best and the worst of you. You opened up my heart; and then you broke it. And yet, somehow, I don’t regret a moment of it. What I felt with you changed everything, and I can’t imagine the person I would be now if none of that ever happened.” 

“You can’t be foolish enough to believe that!” Solas snapped, throwing his hands in the air, “All of the decisions you’ve made were a result of your spirit; your essence. I had no effect on it. The outcome of the inquisition would have remained the same…”

“Your work in the inquisition-”

“Perhaps, if we’d both been more focused, we could’ve accomplished more…”

“Saving the world wasn’t enough for you?”

“You’d be happy now if it weren’t for me.” Solas concluded irately.

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” Mirabel sneered, “These are just the bedtime stories you tell to torture yourself.”

“Very few beings would dare to reprimand me like this.” Solas murmured darkly.

“And there are few who dare to scold  _ me _ .” Mirabel drew herself up, standing tall and proud, “Yet you’ve never hesitated.”

Solas pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. No one could fuel his temper quite like she could.

“We can’t change the past.” Mirabel informed him, “We can only control where we go from here.”

“Yes, yes, you’re right.” Solas grumbled as he started to pace.

“But where will you go from here?” She asked softly. Solas couldn’t bring himself to answer.

It was several minutes before they spoke again.

“Please, you’re making me uneasy.” Mirabel said as her eyes followed him walking back and forth across the room.

“Apologies, I was just...thinking.”

“I think it would solve most of your problems if only you stopped doing  _ that  _ so much.” For a moment he thought she was teasing him, but her tone was thoughtful.

“Perhaps.” Solas exhaled, returning once again to the cradle. Mirabel watched him warily as he reached out and covered the girl’s tiny body with his hand. He felt his hand rise and fall with each ragged breath.

“Her sickness,” Mirabel started softly, “It’s not...natural, is it?” 

“I can’t say.” Solas shook his head. For a while now, he’d been thinking the same thing. Her sickness was lethal and relentless. It was almost as if she’d been cursed. But that wasn’t possible.

“Solas…” 

“Please, don’t.” He begged softly.

“Don’t? Don’t what?”

“You need to stop...saying my name.”

“What? Solas…” She called his name for the tenth time. No one ever called him by his name anymore.

“I haven’t really heard that name in a while.” He tried to explain through gritted teeth, each word causing him pain. 

“Don’t be stupid; that’s your name. You were Solas before you were even Fen’Harel, remember? Why…?” She trailed off, giving him a hard stare. He shifted uncomfortably under her scrutiny. “I know,” she said thoughtfully after several moments, “that Fen’Harel is not wildly popular. However, I still believe he is not a monster.”

“Mirabel…” Solas began.

“That’s the fifth time you’ve said my name.” She informed him stoically. She was counting? “What I’m saying is;” she continued forcefully, “Fen’Harel can’t take your humanity from you. Deep down, you’ll always be Solas.”

“Humanity…” He smirked.

“You know what I mean.”

“Indeed, I do.” He frowned thoughtfully. He didn’t like the sound of his name on her lips because it reminded him...Solas didn’t destroy full armies or cause the fall of civilizations; that was the work of Fen’Harel. One was a vicious trickster in desperate need of justice, the other was a wise councilor who had earned the trust of people he respected deeply. Solas and Fen’Harel. They couldn’t be the same man.

For the sake of his sanity, they couldn’t be the same.

He was so lost in thought, he didn’t immediately notice. When he did, the hair on the back of his neck stood on end and he felt his heart stop.

“Mirabel, I’m sorry but could I ask you to fetch the attendant? I sent her out for herbs a while ago and she has yet to return.” Solas asked urgently. Mirabel blinked once. Solas could feel his palms begin to sweat. “I wouldn't ask, but I’ve thought of some things to add to the list. The sooner she brings them, the better.”

She continued to watch him for a moment; a moment that seemed to go on forever as he struggled to keep his composure.

“Fine.” The High Hahren told him at last. He exhaled as she left the room. In fact, he’d sent the attendant home to get some rest, but it would take Mirabel a while to realize that. He hadn’t meant to deceive her, but he needed her to leave.

He had to get her out of the room before she realized that her daughter had stopped breathing.

The little girl was completely still under his hand.

“No,” he hissed, lifting her into his arms, “no no no _ no _ !” 

This can’t happen.

He held her to his chest, his eyes glowing white as he allowed his power to consume them both. He immediately located the darkness that was pushing its way through her nervous system. What was once a threatening cloud in her chest was now running rampant throughout her whole body. He was equal parts devastated and enraged to find that his suspicions were correct; this  _ had _ to be a curse.

Whoever did this was in for a terrible surprise. Solas clenched his teeth, waves of rage crashing over him. They would pay dearly, for there was no mage more powerful than he. Pure magical energy spiraled out around him, stirring up dust from the floor and making the door rattle in its frame. He growled as he pushed the searing white energy into the little girl. He would cleanse her of every last drop of this malevolent force. Then he would find the mage who cursed her and  _ rip him to shreds. _

The dark cloud fought back, trying to worm its way up her spinal cord. Solas’ magic burned away at the darkness. He pushed his magic further, hoping to send a message to this unknown sorcerer.

_ This girl is under the Dread Wolf’s protection. _

_ Anyone who tries to harm her must go THROUGH ME. _

_ NO. _

_ ONE. _

_ TOUCHES. _

_ HER. _

The room flooded with light. Solas focused all of his energy into one last push to beat away the darkness.

Finally, the black clouds dissipated. Solas hurriedly cradled the baby’s head in his hand. She still wasn’t breathing. Cursing loudly, he pressed two fingers two her heart, sparks fizzed from his fingers as he sent a jolt directly into her heart.

If this didn’t work...if this didn’t work...he thought frantically.

After what seemed like an eternity and another jolt to the heart, the girl wriggled and began to wail. Solas’ knees gave way with alleviation. He stumbled across the room and collapsed into the rocking chair, holding her close as he whispered reassurances. She cried for several minutes, taking in sharps gasps of air.

“You’re alright. Everything will be fine.” He promised, rocking her gently. Again and again he promised her this. His eyes stung with the effort of holding back tears of relief. He was comforted by the feeling of her breathing against his chest. “You did really well. Such a strong girl, you are. A fighter, just like your mother. Nothing is going to harm you.” He continued to rock her for several minutes as she squirmed and cried.

In an effort to calm her, he began speaking softly to her in elvish. Then, without thinking about it, it morphed into a familiar lullaby. “ Elgara vallas, da'len. Melava somniar. Mala taren aravas. Ara ma'desen melar. Iras ma ghilas, da'len. Ara ma'nedan ashir. Dirthara lothlenan'as. Bal emma mala dir. Tel'enfenim, da'len. Irassal ma ghilas. Ma garas mir renan. Ara ma'athlan vhenas. Ara ma'athlan vhenas.”

“I didn’t expect you to know any Dalish lullabies.” Mirabel’s voice sounded from the doorway. Solas snapped his head up. He hadn’t heard her enter. She was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, face unreadable.

“Many of the phrases are from old Elvhen verses.” He informed her.

“Hm. I suppose there is some truth in our traditions after all.” Mirabel said dryly, subconsciously brushing her fingers across the cheekbone that once bore the vallaslin. Solas inhaled deeply. Whenever they spoke about the Dalish it caused an argument. He didn’t want to fight about it today, 

“How’s she doing?” Mirabel asked, drawing closer. 

“She’s amazing.” Solas stated matter-of-factly. When Mirabel raised an eyebrow he cleared his throat and clarified, “I believe her to be improving. She seems to be breathing comfortably now. She has a remarkable will to live, this daughter of yours.”

Mirabel smiled at the news, hope flickering in her eyes as she crouched and rested a hand against the girl’s forehead to feel for the fever. After a moment, she removed her hand thoughtfully and met Solas’ gaze.

“Did you really not know about her?” She queried. 

“No.” He confessed.

“How is that possible? Surely you have spies inside the settlement.”

“I did.” In truth, he’d sent very few spies in this direction out of respect. As for the ones he did send, “Your guard captain is very good at his job.”

“Rainier never told me he’d apprehended any spies for Fen’Harel.” Mirabel frowned.

“Likely because he never imprisoned any. He always discovered them before they were able to report anything of value. After questioning, he always released them. I’ve been assured they were treated relatively well. I had assumed it was all on your orders.”

“I had no idea.” Mirabel admitted, shaking her head. Solas felt his heart sink slightly at the revelation. In the back of his mind, he’d always thought Mirabel was the one looking out for his people. Finding out that it was, in fact, Rainier, made him puzzled and disheartened. He looked down at the little girl, now sleeping peacefully in his arms.

“Regardless,” Mirabel continued, “You should get some rest. You look exhausted.” She reached out with her right hand and gingerly pressed the tips of her fingers to the shadow under his left eye. Solas was startled by the touch and completely froze. Mirabel, although she initiated the contact, seemed equally shocked by it. She blinked once, eyes wide with surprise, before she remembered herself and quickly withdrew her hand. Were it not for the sleeping infant in his arms, he might’ve snatched her hand and held it there. He’d forgotten how it felt to be touched; to be close with someone. It felt...warm.

“I...um.” Mirabel started shakily. She took a moment to compose herself before continuing, “There’s a bed in the room next door, go get a few hours’ sleep. I’ll look after v-....I’ll look after her.”

Solas hesitated, eyes fixed on the girl’s sleeping face.

“I’ll come get you right away if anything changes.” Mirabel vowed. She watched him with tender eyes as he reluctantly delivered her daughter back into her arms. 

He crossed the room and stopped at the door, looking over his shoulder. Mirabel was gently pacing, cooing quietly to the sleeping child. She glanced up and caught him watching.

“Go on.” She urged him, nodding to the door, “I’ll know where to find you.”

“You believe I’ll still be there when you come looking?” He couldn’t help but ask. 

“I do.” She replied with a pointed look at the girl in her arms. 

He hoped she was right. 

The room next door was large and comfortably furnished with a four-poster bed, a desk, an armchair, and a small bookshelf. Solas smiled as he wandered over to the bookshelf. There was the signed copy of  _ Tales of the Champion _ that Mirabel had kept on her nightstand back at Skyhold. At the time, it was the only book she owned, but she’d always been eager to acquire more. He was happy to see she’d achieved her goal; the bookshelf was stuffed with historical volumes and fantastical fictions. He wondered which was her favorite. He drifted across the room to the desk, where a map of Thedas was unfurled. There were pins stuck in various locations; Orlais, Fereldan, Antiva, the Marches, the Imperium. 

Wait a minute.

He leaned closer. There was a pin in every single place he’d been since Halamshiral. He didn’t realize how closely she’d been tracking him. And yet, she hadn’t caught up to him yet.

He stared at Mirabel’s bed for a moment before sitting on it. It was surreal to find himself in Mirabel’s bedroom. It was easy to see her living in the comfortable, practical space. He could envision her curled up in the armchair with a book in her hands, or studying the map intently with pins held in her teeth, or sleeping wrapped up in the violet quilt that was draped over the bed. Sleeping  _ alone _ wrapped up in that quilt, that is. With that thought, he flopped back on the bed, keeping his feet planted on the ground; his limbs all felt as though they were made of lead.  _ Fenedhis lasa _ the kid wasn’t conceived  _ here _ , was she? Solas shook his head violently; if he kept allowing himself such thoughts he’d never get to sleep. He took a breath and focused on his relief that the girl was okay. He’d stay for a day more, just to make sure her recovery was under way. He was relatively certain that the curse itself had been driven out, and he was antsy to begin his hunt for the spellcaster. 

He was pulled from a deep sleep by the knowledge that he was no longer alone. Solas opened his eyes slowly. Mirabel came into focus; she was sitting next to him on the bed, tying her hair up into a horsetail. He groaned as he lifted himself onto his elbows, his body felt stiff from falling asleep sprawled out on his back.

“Why-?” He asked groggily, blinking a few times to focus on the woman beside him. Once his brain caught up with him, he became alarmed at her presence. “Is she-?”

“She’s fine.” Mirabel assured him calmly. He sagged in relief, causing Mirabel to give him a gentle smile. “It’s nice to see someone care so deeply about her recovery.”

“I am quite certain that the entire population of Eth’an is deeply invested in the matter.” Solas noted, recalling Rainier’s threatening manner the day before.

“Still, though. It means a lot to me that you would care.” 

“She is your daughter; how could I not lov-....care about her?” Solas rubbed his forehead, still disoriented from sleep. However, his reaction drew a frown from Mirabel. She looked at him for several long moments, her eyebrows twitching with indecision. After a moment, she blew out a sigh and rose to her feet. 

“Anyway, I just came to bring you something warm to drink.” She nodded to the steaming mug left on the nightstand. Solas drew himself all of the way up into a sitting position and peered into the mug.

“This is tea,” He said blankly, eyes fixed on the dark liquid, “I don’t drink tea.”

“I know.” Mirabel responded with a wicked grin, violet eyes sparkling with silent laughter.

Well, he supposed he deserved that.

“You must be feeling better if you’ve the energy to torment me.” He accused her, turning his narrowed eyes from the mug of tea to her face.

“I don’t know what you mean.” She smiled innocently, brushing away his comment, “Be sure to drink every last drop; tea is  _ very _ good for your health.”

With that, she sashayed out of the room; her menacing grin still fixed on her lips.

It took Solas a while to choke down the tea. Then, he rejoined Mirabel in the baby’s room. 

He spent most of the morning working over the girl in silence as Mirabel curled up in the rocking chair with a book. The infant’s condition had improved, but the fever still persisted. 

Mirabel sent the attendant for food, which she and Solas ate together in silence. After their meal, Mirabel regretfully excused herself to attend to other duties. This time, she did not hesitate upon leaving the room. As the baby slept, he accidentally dozed off again, but awakened a short time later.

It was late afternoon when Mirabel strolled back into the room and asked after her daughter’s condition.

“The same.” Solas replied. The woman pursed her lips. Solas shifted uncomfortably. In the wake of the child’s imminent recovery, he’d allowed his mind to wander a bit. In fact, in the past few hours he’d been contemplating how to broach a few awkward subjects with her. She could tell there was something on his mind.

“What?” She demanded, narrowing her vibrant violet eyes.

“Have you...spoken with Cullen today?”

“Cullen?” She blinked in confusion, “Why, what’s he done?”

“Ah, I had an enlightening conversation with him yesterday. I thought he might have mentioned it.”

“Oh, you mean the conversation where he disobeyed a direct order.” Mirabel blew out a sharp breath of agitation.

“He was doing what he thought was right.”

“Yes, he’s always doing that.” The woman waved a hand dismissively.

“I…” Solas hesitated. 

“And  _ you _ !” Mirabel surprised him by picking the book up from her chair and chucking it him. She wasn’t really trying to hit him and he dodged it with ease.

“Me?” He asked incredulously.

“Why are you so fixated on him? You were like this in Tevinter, too, trying to force me on him like I’m a purebred hound who won’t breed with mongrels.” 

He returned her glare with one of his own. They both knew why. 

He couldn’t bear it for her to be with a mongrel.

“Cullen’s a good man.” Solas pointed out, speaking slowly.

“One of the best.” Mirabel agreed unhappily, shaking her head.

“And you’re a good woman.”

“It’s doesn’t work like that.” Mirabel sighed in exasperation.

“I told myself that, if it were Cullen, I could accept it.” Fen’Harel admitted quietly, his sorrowful gaze landing on the infant again. 

For several moments, Mirabel was very still. Then, she drew closer. She stopped at the foot of the bassinet, chewing her lip as she thoughtfully considered her next move.

“For what it’s worth; I’m sorry that…” She shook her head and tried again, “I’m sorry that you didn’t know. About her. And I’m sorry that I can’t tell you everything you want to know.”

“I don’t need to know everything...not exactly.” He assured her, although every fiber of his being screamed that this was a lie. She watched him suspiciously as he shifted his weight from foot to foot with indecision.

He repeatedly told himself that he didn’t need to know. He shouldn’t need to know. But the questions were bubbling up faster than he could repress them. In the end, there was really only one thing he wanted to know.

“Do you love him?” He asked seriously. Mirabel’s eyes widened in surprise as he lifted his attention to her from the cradle. “The girl’s father. Do you love him?” He pressed.

“Yes.” She spoke. He’d expected her to hesitate, but she answered confidently, holding his gaze firmly. Shaken by this, Solas wavered before continuing.

“Does he love you?” He croaked.

“Yes.” She once again answered without missing a beat, but she frowned.

“Then why isn’t he here?”

“Because he doesn’t want to be.” She answered bluntly.

Solas hissed wordlessly. How  _ dare _ he.

“In his defense; he doesn’t know.” Mirabel pointed out with a sad smile, “And that’s the last thing I have to say on the matter.” 

“You mean you haven’t told him?” Solas didn’t know why he was so angry, but the words flew from his lips in a jeer.

“Solas…” Mirabel pleaded, growing visibly upset. Her eyes darted around the room, presumably in search of something else to throw at him.

“Didn’t he deserve that choice?” Solas challenged.

“ _ No _ .” She snarled, “And  _ you _ have less right than anyone to lecture me about it.”

“I-”

“I understand that what I’ve done is deplorable.” Mirabel continued angrily, “However, it’s a complicated situation which, frankly, you know nothing about. Who are you to judge me?” 

His eyes fell to her hands and saw that they were shaking. She gripped the foot of the bassinet to steady them.

“Did you ever consider the idea that this sickness could be his doing?” He didn’t mean to shout, but the rational part of his mind was retreating and his anger was finally taking over.

“Excuse me?” She hissed.

“The illness, it’s unnatural, I know you’ve suspected as much. This kind of curse could only be the result of blood magic.”

“And you’re suggesting…?”

“That if he found out he might be angry enough…”

“He would  _ never _ do that to his own  _ daughter _ .” Mirabel denied through gritted teeth.

“And you can say as much with absolute certainty?”

“ _ Yes. _ ” She spat. Solas growled unintelligibly at her faith in the man. It was so maddening that he was losing his ability to think. He held her defiant gaze for a moment before continuing.

“Do you have any idea who else would stoop low enough to curse an infant?” He asked. 

“I’m not sure. Believe it or not, I’ve made a few enemies.” She responded with a glare. 

“Why won’t you just tell me who he is?” He shouted angrily.

“ _ Because who I sleep with is none of your business _ !” Mirabel screamed.

A short wail came from the bassinet, causing the two to finally break eye contact and look down. The baby kicked her legs and cried. Instinctively, Solas reached down to pick her up, but stopped when he felt a light sprinkling of sweat on the girl’s shoulder.

“Mirabel.” He said urgently, leaning further and feeling her forehead. Mirabel leaned in anxiously. Solas reached out with his magic to confirm his suspicions while the girl’s mother held her breath. “Her fever’s breaking.” 

The little girl whimpered then, at long last, she slowly opened her eyes.

Solas was frozen in place as the girl’s large eyes bore into him. Eyes that were deep, stormy gray set inside a green outer ring. 

Eyes that were exactly like his own.

_ What? _

_ How? _

_ Why-? _

The girl closed her eyes again and he felt like a spell had been broken. He blinked hard several times. This was impossible.  _ Impossible _ .

“Mirabel…” He breathed, turning his head ever so slightly to look at her. She was watching him apprehensively, eyes watery. “Whose daughter is this?”

“I’m sorry.” She whispered, a single tear sliding down her cheek.

“You’re  _ sorry _ ?” Solas growled. The air pressure in the room shifted. This time, he was sure he would vomit. He stumbled backwards, sending the wooden chair toppling. He crouched down in an attempt to stop the world from spinning, covering his face with his hands. He remained silent as waves of nausea washed over him. Mirabel waited tensely while he composed himself.

“What...what’s her name?” He asked at last, lifting his head from his hands.

“It’s Velvela.” Mirabel replied softly.

Velvela. It was an old name, and now Solas realized why no had mentioned the girl’s name to him before. The most common translation of “Velvela” was “little wolf”.

“How?” He demanded, finally able to rise to his feet. 

“How?” The woman repeated blankly.

“This is impossible; she’s too young to be…” Solas stopped, but Mirabel continued to watch steadily him until he croaked out the word, “mine.”

“She’s near five months. She was too small when she was born, and with her sickness...she’s never grown like she should.” 

Solas slowly approached the cradle once again. He looked down at the little girl who had Mirabel’s nose and fiery red hair...and his eyes. He gripped the edge of the bassinet so hard his knuckles turned white. 

“How could you not tell me?” He hissed.

“You’re not exactly an easy person to get ahold of.” Mirabel remarked dryly.

“No,” He shook his head, “I’ve been here nearly two days and  _ still  _ you didn’t tell me!”

Mirabel bit her bottom lip, anguish written all over her face. Suddenly, Solas recalled her words from the previous morning;  _ “ _ _ I fear what you would do if you found out.” _

_ I fear what you would do. _

_ I...fear...you _ .

For five months this girl had been kept a secret from him. For two days they refused to acknowledge her parentage when he asked about it outright. He usually thought of himself as someone with resolute self-control. Unfortunately, as he always did when around Mirabel, he was starting to lose it. He could feel power and anger coursing through his veins.

“I’m so sorry, Solas.” Mirabel lamented softly, “I think it’s time I introduced you to your daughter.”

_ His daughter _ .

For a moment, Solas blacked out; his emotions completely overwhelming him. 

“Solas…” Mirabel started, but Solas shook his head again.

“ _ No _ .” He growled. Suddenly, his eyes glowed white and a spiritual pulse radiated from him, shaking the room and causing the window to shake and rattle in its frame. Velvela began to fuss louder.

“Solas.” Mirabel repeated more firmly, holding her ground. 

“This can’t…” Solas began, struggling to remain in control. This couldn’t change anything.

But it did. This could change  _ everything _ .

And that was unacceptable.

He needed to remove himself from this situation.

“I’m sorry, too.” He apologized under his breath. With one last glance at the girl...his daughter...in the cradle, he turned on his heel and strode quickly from the room. Behind him, he heard Mirabel shout for the attendant before running after him. She caught up to him a few steps after he stormed out of the front door, grabbing him roughly by the elbow.

“Solas, wait…”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He roared, turning on her.

“Because I knew you would leave.” Mirabel replied, narrowing her eyes, “And I was right. You’re running away just like always.”

“I’m not running.”

“Oh please, you practically sprinted out of that room.” Mirabel accused him, her eyes watering with tears of frustration. He tried to shake her off of him but she tightened her grip, “You just found out that you have a daughter. Are you really just going to walk away?” Solas looked at her seriously. She didn’t understand that he hated this. He despised himself for leaving, but he knew it was what he had to do. He took a deep breath to steady himself.

“I’m doing what I must.” He told her sorrowfully. Keeping her grip on his elbow, Mirabel pulled herself closer to him. Silent tears had begun to trickle down her cheeks. Regardless, she met his gaze with something resembling hope and something else that seemed like desperation.

“You don’t...have to go.” Mirabel whispered. His heart jumped to his throat. Mirabel’s grip fell from his elbow and Solas, immediately and unbidden, reached up to cradle her face in his hands. He used his thumbs to brush away her tears and his own threatening tears began to sting his eyes.

“I wish it were true, Vhenan.” He whispered regretfully, fighting back tears. Mirabel wrapped her hands in the front of his robes at his chest, pulling herself closer yet again so they were standing toe-to-toe. She lifted her chin to gaze up at him. 

“Solas, please listen to me.” She begged, “I know that you have a responsibility to the People. I understand that; really, I do. They’re part of you.”

“It’s-”

“But now,” Mirabel continued through persisting tears, “With Velvela and I...we’re a part of you, too. You belong here, with us.”

He knew it was true. The thought of abandoning them left him with a physical ache in his heart and his bones. He felt tears escaping the corners of his eyes but no longer had the energy to hold them in. He wanted so badly to stay; but he knew he couldn’t. His presence would only bring more death and suffering.

He’d already done enough damage here.

“Ar lath ma, ma vhenan.” Mirabel pledged quietly, “You can rip this world apart and I’ll still love you.”

“You shouldn’t.” He croaked. 

“I know.” 

He’d committed every sin imaginable. He was responsible for the deaths of friends, the fall of a nation, the extinction of his people, and the deception of the woman he loved. The things he’d done were unforgivable. 

How could he ever look his daughter in the eye after all the tragedy he’d sown? 

“Will you tell me that you don’t love me?” Mirabel asked. He watched through blurred vision as tears dripped from her chin, landing on her hands as she continued to hold him in place.

“You know I can’t do that.”

“I’ve tried,” Mirabel admitted, “I’ve tried to stop. I’ve done everything I can think of to stop loving you. But I can’t; and I’m done pretending that I don’t care about you. I want you here with Velvela and I. You could help us rebuild the culture we’ve lost, and teach our daughter her people’s history. Would that be so bad?”

It sounded like paradise.

He shook his head to block these distracting thoughts.

“I can’t.” He breathed, a single tear sliding down his cheek as he gazed mournfully into her wide, pleading eyes. 

He stroked her cheekbone, which once bore the vallaslin, one last time. The day he removed her marking was a melancholy memory; the peace of being with her mixed with the pain of leaving her. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. When he stilled his thumb she opened her eyes again, a glimmer of hope sparking deep in her eyes. No, he couldn’t allow her to have hope for him. This had to end. Now. With the last of his willpower, his hands slowly retreated from her face.

“Ir abelas, Vhenan.” He moved to take a step back.

He saw the spark in her eyes die as her hands dropped from his robes, her arms falling limply to her side as he stepped away.

A soft summer breeze blew through the settlement. 

Slowly, Solas turned away, eyes fixed on the front gate. He took one step, and then another, He just needed to get away. He could focus on his mission as soon as he was away from her.

“Solas.” Mirabel called after him. He froze in place. If he dared to look back at her, could he still bring himself to leave? He couldn’t resist the chance to look at her one more time. Planting his feet, he glanced back over his shoulder.

Mirabel stood there, shoulders tensed. The wind blew the wayward tendrils of hair that had escaped her horsetail across her tear-stained face. 

“This is the last time I’ll ask.” She promised, speaking quietly, Her voice carried to him on the summer wind. “ _ Please stay _ .”

Solas closed his eyes. It was rare for her to show such weakness and vulnerability. She was opening her heart to him...again. And he would have to break it...again. 

Let this be the last time.

He turned his head away. He tried to think of something to say but, in the end, he couldn’t trust his voice. Without saying another word, he continued walking.

He strode through the front gate once more, ignoring the whispers that followed him. 

Solas waited until he was safely past the treeline before pausing to wipe away his tears. He should have never answered her call for help. He should have continued on without knowing that...that…

Suddenly, there was a disturbance in the veil around him. There was a slight shift, gone as quickly as it’d come. 

“Where are you going?” A familiar voice asked from behind him. Solas let out a deep sigh.

“What are you doing here, Cole?” He asked wearily.

“I heard you.” The spirit answered simply, moving to stand at his friend’s side.

“My apologies, Cole. I certainly didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“You always say that.” Cole pointed out dismissively, “If you would let me help…”

“You cannot.” Solas sighed again. Since returning to the fade, Cole had visited him every year or two, offering to help. The spirit meant well, he knew, but he wearied of the implication that help for him was possible.

“Today I heard you louder than I ever have before. Something has changed.” Cole observed mildly.

“Did you know?” 

“Blood soaking deep in the wooden floors, it will need to be rebuilt.” Cole looked away, his eyes growing distant as he remembered, “She cries; the baby does not. It hurts...will I die? Why isn’t he here?” Solas winced as Cole returned his gaze to him, “I heard her, so I came, but I was late. The long-term damage was irreversible. If I had only gotten there sooner…”

“It is no fault of yours.” Solas interrupted; he was the one who should have been there.

“Nor is it yours; she knows that.”

“Then she is mistaken.” Solas looked away. He should have been there, or he should have stayed away from her altogether. Cole studied him silently for several moments before continuing.

“She would save you if you let her.”

“Alas, I think Mirabel has finally given up the idea of redeeming me.” Solas disagreed ruefully.

Cole cocked his head to the side, confused.

“I was not speaking of Mirabel.”

Solas swallowed his reply. Cole’s response brought him up short.

_ I was not speaking of Mirabel _ .

The girl.

“A little girl, hair bright red and eyes the color of an oncoming storm.” Cole continued, ignoring the elf’s look of dismay, “She adventures freely against her mother’s wishes, and has a knack for finding mischief. ‘Papa’ she calls, and he comes. She hangs on his every word. She longs to learn and to explore. Mama and Papa couldn’t be prouder.”

“That’s impossible.” Solas hissed through gritted teeth. He didn’t want to hear about what could be. That life could never be his.

“Another path, then.” Cole began to pace slowly, Solas watched him cautiously as he walked back and forth in front of him. “A little girl, hair bright red and eyes the color of an oncoming storm. She adventures freely against her mother’s wishes, and has a knack for finding mischief. Her mother worries about the magic in her blood. If the girl ever dreams in the fade, then all will be lost; there will be no one to teach her to control her powers. The mother fears losing the girl to the fade or a demon.” Cole’s eyes darted around and he stopped walking, “The girl loves to run, and her people watch her go with guarded eyes. Their whispers have followed her throughout her life. She will grow accustomed to it, but she will never like it. Why is mama afraid of me? Why are they all afraid? Have I done something wrong?  _ Am _ I wrong?”

“Stop.” Solas begged desperately. He put his hand on the trunk of a nearby tree to steady himself.

“Yet another path, then?” Cole’s expression grew dark, but he refused to stop talking, “The veil; ripped apart. Worlds collide violently. Chaos reigns. Mama isn’t scared. Demons and spirits surround them as the very earth cracks beneath their feet, threatening to swallow them whole. Mama cries silently as she finally stops fighting, wrapping the little girl in her arms and waiting. Waiting for the pain to finally be over. It won’t be long now. She had hoped death would be quicker than this.”

Solas fell to his knees at the base of the tree and retched violently. Unperturbed, Cole summoned a green glow to his hand and reached out, tapping the base of the elf’s skull gently. Solas immediately felt his head clear and his stomach settle. However, he couldn't find the energy to rise.

“It was not my intention to hurt you.” Cole said softly, slowly sinking into a crouch next to him, “But I had to make you understand. Which path you walk determines the girl’s fate; her life or her death.”

“You don’t understand.” Solas protested weakly.

“I am Compassion.” Cole replied calmly, “It is my purpose to understand. You are the one who taught me that. I see things clearly now. Even you. I know your fears. You think…”

“That I shouldn’t stay.”

“But you can’t let her go.” Cole’s gaze became distant again, “When you’re face to face you feel you stand alone. She feels it too, you know. Every time she sees you she feels like she’s falling apart. Even in a crowded room. I also know your greatest fear is to die alone.”

“A common enough fear.” Solas noted dryly.

“She knows it’s your greatest insecurity; she saw it in the fade. She never told you that she saw it, she pretended she didn’t because she knew she would save you from that fate. Because she loves you.”

Solas stared at the roots of the tree bulging through the meager grass. For once, he found himself completely unable to reply.

“You love her. I know you do. Yet, your emotions are misaligned. You love her, and still you leave. You have a daughter, but you plan to tear down the veil anyway. On your current path, you will bring about the death of both Mirabel and her daughter. She won’t be surprised to see it, but she will be sad, and she’ll cry. Everyone else will be angry; they all thought you’d never kill your own daughter…”

“That’s  _ enough. _ ” Solas snapped, unintentionally releasing another spiritual pulse. The trees around them shook violently and the birds in them squawked loudly in protest before taking flight. Solas breathed in and clenched his fist. Her death would be... _ devastating _ . No, that wouldn’t do. He couldn’t allow himself to mourn her. He couldn’t get attached. Not again. Her death would be...regrettable.

“You’re not about to lie to me, are you?” Cole asked without contempt. Solas let out the breath he’d been holding.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He sighed, “This is all wrong. I didn’t expect things to turn out like this. I didn’t  _ want _ to make this choice.”

“Yet the time for a choice has come.”

The two sat in silence for several minutes as Solas mulled over his options. Staying? Impossible. Disappearing? Impractical. Finishing his mission? Unsavory.

“I told you once,” Cole spoke at last, “that you would find happiness in your own way.”

“You did.” Solas agreed.

“I’m sure you don’t need me to say it; but this is your chance.”

“No.” Solas shook his head and finally straightened. Cole stayed in his crouch, his piercing blue eyes following the elf’s movement. “It’s too late for me.”

“What will you do?” The spirit asked earnestly. 

“I am...unsure.” His head was spinning. He couldn’t stay, but he couldn’t leave. He had to destroy the veil, but to do so would be excruciating. For now, there was only one thing of which he could be sure. He started to walk off.

“Solas,” Cole called, straightening at last, “Of all of the paths to walk, the most dangerous is revenge.”

“I am aware.” Solas replied. Some things were unavoidable.

“Then where are you going?”

“I’m going to find the mage who put a curse on my daughter.” Solas replied darkly, folding his hands behind his back once more to keep them from trembling, “Then I will rip the flesh from his bones.”

The setting sun cast sharp, threatening shadows across the forest floor as Solas resolutely retreated.

“Good luck, my friend.” Cole said, too quietly for the other man to hear, “I hope you make the right choice.”

The Dread Wolf disappeared into the trees as night fell.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I changed some lore just a little bit when it came to Elven halflings I know about it and I'm sorry. This was my first ever Solavellan fic.
> 
> In light of your comments I should add that I did conceive a second part to this, however I'm an extremely slow write (this took six months) and so Part 2 never really came into being. I'll keep working on it but I'm unsure if it'll ever be ready.


End file.
